


Immortal Claim

by ladyofsilverdawn (ladyofSD)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Biting, Claiming, Complete, Frottage, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Secret Snarry Swap 2017, Soulmates, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vampire Severus Snape, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofSD/pseuds/ladyofsilverdawn
Summary: Harry needs Severus’s cooperation to solve a case, but navigating vampiric culture and Severus’s powerful allure proves more challenging than he anticipates.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheMightyFlynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/gifts).



> Thank you, mystery prompter, for submitting your juicy idea; I had so much fun running with it. Many thanks to the mods and their understanding ways. :) And myfirstisthefourth, you are Amazing! I’m so happy to call you a friend. *hugs*
> 
> Prompt 20 from themightyflynn: Severus is a vampire. Not just any vampire, though, he heads an entire clan. His power is beginning to make the Ministry nervous, so they send Harry in as a negotiator.

Harry didn’t know what to expect after seventeen years. He had studied the sparse amount of information that had landed on his desk the prior day, but most of it had been redundant, dull facts: nothing to offer him any real insights so he could do his job properly.

Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, he ran his fingers through his forever uncooperative hair. Besides not knowing what to expect, he was utterly confused.

About a month after the war, Kingsley had informed him that Snape had been sighted Turned. Later that year, Hermione had confirmed it when she saw him leaving the new Bobbins’ Apothecary in Hogsmeade. And the Ministry’s report had been quite clear about Snape’s Being Status, it being emblazoned, ironically, in blood-red ink at the top of the first page. So why did he find himself striding through the heart of Chelsea in the middle of the day under the glaring sun?

Harry passed cyclists, window shoppers, and children tugging at their parents’ hands, the smell of fresh pastries from a nearby shop an open invitation to all those who roamed along King’s Road. Always on guard, Harry took note of their faces, scrutinizing their behaviour and his surroundings.

Jogging through a zebra crossing to make a light, Harry pulled at his tight collar and grimaced. He hated having to wear a Muggle suit, and the leather briefcase knocking against his leg was bothersome; but remembering Snape as he did, Harry hadn’t been able to think of anything else to wear that wouldn’t immediately prompt a sneer or a lower opinion of his skill as an Auror. That would be the last thing Harry needed with the promotion to Lead Detective up for grabs.

Ever since Harry had joined the ranks, he dedicated most of his waking hours to the Auror Department, dreaming that, one day, he would become Head Auror. Currently, he worked in the Investigation Department specializing in crisis negotiation; his skill at negotiation was the reason the Department had decided to drop this case in his lap.

Harry continued down the pavement, pushing his specs up the bridge of his sweat-slicked nose. At the next corner, he made a right turn. Up ahead, he saw ‘The Bohemian’ hand-painted on a hanging wooden sign, letting him know he was indeed on the right street.

The Bohemian was a smart restaurant with an al fresco side terrace. Potted topiaries and vibrant flowers around the perimeter acted as a barrier and provided some privacy from passersby. Unlit string lights spanned over the tables, chairs, and cushioned benches, most of them available because of the late afternoon hour.

The owner of the restaurant had embraced Chelsea’s old roots as a popular artist haunt. Harry marvelled at the stunning bronze sculptures he glimpsed decorating the outdoor eating area and the colourful paintings displayed inside.

When Harry entered the establishment, he expected to find Snape waiting inside; however, Snape was nowhere to be seen. Having no luck inside, Harry strolled out to the terrace through the opened French windows. An awning overhead shaded Harry and a line of square tables set against the wall. He glanced along the shadowed row of tables, but Snape was not to be found, once again.

Walking further out, Harry studied the remaining people, his eyes centring on one man, in particular, facing away. This man _had_ to be Snape. The man had the same strong shoulders as Snape, the same proper posture, and the same pitch-black hair—although instead of it hanging, a strip of leather tied it back. But this possible Turned-Snape was doing something unheard of for one of his kind: he was sitting out in the open under direct sunlight.

“Potter,” Snape’s smooth, seductive voice drawled, causing Harry’s breath to catch. “Are you going to sit down, or are you going to squander even more of _your_ time? I now have an endless supply, so it’s of no concern to me.”

Swallowing hard, Harry strode closer and, rounding the table, met Snape for the first time as a vampire.

Snape held a notebook with his left hand and scribbled something on it with his right. His pulled-back hair showcased his sharp cheekbones, aquiline nose, and…tan? Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. Snape looked healthy, years younger, and… _attractive_.

Feeling discomfited, Harry took the seat across from Snape. Moving aside a plate of untouched shortbread biscuits, he laid his briefcase on the table between them instead of beside his chair, unconsciously creating a makeshift fortification of sorts. But the divider didn’t prevent Snape’s scent from infiltrating Harry’s nostrils.

Snape didn’t smell of potions ingredients or cologne as Harry expected. He smelt like all of Harry’s favourite things: a breezy day, the best kind for flying; the homey corridors of Hogwarts, which always used to smell of lemon wood polish; and treacle tart, sweet and decadent.

Even though Harry understood Snape’s vampiric allure was at work, he let his lungs fill deeply with Snape’s delicious scent.

When Snape didn’t bother looking up, Harry, unsettled from being ignored and wanting to be on more familiar ground, resorted to old behaviour.

“Rector Snape,” Harry snidely said Snape’s vampiric title, “you looked more like a vampire before you were Turned than you do now.”

With elegant, precise movements, Snape shut his notebook, tucking his pencil into its spiral binding. He unhurriedly raised his head, a charming, yet distant, closed-mouth smile on his face.

The moment their eyes finally met, Snape’s nostrils flared. The chatter around them seemed to go silent, and the air seemed to still. Harry felt as if the pull of Snape’s gaze was swallowing him whole. A heartbeat later, Snape parted his lips, displaying only the tips of his sharp canines for Harry to see.

“We refer to ourselves as immortals, not vampires,” Snape replied out of habit. “Did you not do your homework, Potter?” he teased, his dark eyes sparking with heat.

“ _Auror_ Potter,” Harry snapped, trying to slow down his fluttering heart and break eye contact.

Over the years, Harry had made it a point to study the psychology, customs, and culture of, not just wizards, but any being he might find himself interacting with during the course of his work—vampires especially, because of the very wizard sitting before him.

But the secretive nature of most beings, particularly vampires, had made it difficult for Harry to get his hands on unbiased material. The most informative source he had found on vampires was a diary written during the mid-1800s by a Sterling Smith, a Muggle, no less, recently graduated from Oxford. Sterling had written about his encounters—explicit encounters—with Sanguini, the Rector of England before Snape had somehow taken the reins. Harry had lost count of how many times he’d read the diary, but he could easily recall the last time: the previous evening.

He vividly knew all about a vampire’s bite: the instant aphrodisiacal effect, the almost excruciating pleasure, and the everlasting consequences. He also understood vampiric body language. When Snape had initially greeted him with his fangs hidden behind a closed-mouth smile, he was being nothing but polite. If he had bared his fangs completely, Harry would have had reason to fear for his life. However, Snape showing only a hint of fang meant something else entirely: it was an open invitation…to be bitten. Claimed.

Harry felt extremely out of his depth. In vampiric terms, Snape was flirting with him, and Harry’s body was reacting to it. His blood danced through his veins responding to Snape’s Thrall, flushing his cheeks and filling his cock.

Desperate to return to the matter at hand, Harry managed to reply, “T-the Being Status of ‘immortal’ isn’t recognized by the Ministry.”

Rolling his eyes, Snape huffed out a breath, releasing Harry from his gaze.

“ _Auror_ Potter, when I received a letter from the Ministry stating they would be sending you, I thought it was either a mistake or a trick. Cleary, I’ve vastly underestimated the Ministry’s lack of sense.”

Harry pursed his lips yet welcomed the insult, letting it settle over him like a favoured blanket. The expected ire when having to interact with Snape warmed him from the inside out, but another emotion, an unwelcome one, also simmered inside him, refusing to let his heart settle.

“Good,” Harry responded with a forced cheer, snapping open his briefcase to retrieve his case notes, a pen, blank parchment, and his Quick-Quill Transcriber hidden under a Disillusionment Charm. “You’ve already reviewed the Ministry’s correspondence letter in full so we won’t have to waste time going over the mundane details. I don’t know how it is you’re out in broad daylight, but I’m sure it’s not permanent.”

Harry waited for Snape to refute his statement, but when all Snape did was narrow his eyes and remain silent, he continued on.

“As you know, the Ministry has grown increasingly concerned with Domus Aes, and you, as its acting Rector, are responsible for keeping a firm hand on the actions of your Childr—”

“And as I’ve already explained to the Ministry, my Domus is innocent and has been erroneously accused.

“You know as well as I do what the Ministry is really concerned about: the emergence of an Immortal Alliance. With the recent union of all Domum in Ireland and the United Kingdom into Domus Aes, and Domus Or of France, possibly others, aligning soon, the Ministry is nervous about our growing power.

“I now may be the Rector of all of Ireland and Britain, but I won’t become the Rector of any additional territories. Although, I do believe an Immortal Council will be formed, and I’ll likely be voted as its head…”

“I’m _not_ here to discuss politics,” Harry asserted, having to pull his eyes away from the gleaming statue of beautifully detailed hands he could see past Snape’s left shoulder. It hung like a precarious chain, fingers on one hand grasping onto fingers of another: male and female, young and old.

Choosing to instead stare at Snape’s brow so it wouldn’t be so obvious he was avoiding eye contact, Harry implored, “I’m here so I can solve who killed a number of innocent people. Just this morning, a sixth body was discovered drained of all blood with the telltale signs of a vampiric kill. I…I trust what you’ve said. But without your cooperation, it’ll take even longer to prove your Domus’s innocence.”

Sighing, Snape nodded. “Get on with it, then.”

Harry shuffled through his parchments until he found the specific one he wanted. His pen poised, Harry informed Snape of his rights. “Rector Snape, you are under no obligation to answer any questions put forth and may request legal counsel at any time. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Snape droned, looking towards the heavens as if he indeed wanted the sun to engulf him in flames. As soon as his answer left his mouth, the scratch of the magical quill writing down his answer could be heard.

“Please state your full name for the record.”

“Severus Charles Snape.”

“Charles?” A middle name wasn’t listed anywhere on Snape’s paperwork.

After making an impatient sound in his throat, Snape elaborated, “My father wouldn’t allow my mother to bestow me her maiden name, Prince, so she sneaked it in by naming me after an actual one instead. I detest the name and never use it.”

Harry caught himself chuckling but quickly covered it with a cough and the clearing of his throat. “Where were you between the hours of five and eight o’clock this morning.”

“At my place of residence.”

“Is there someone who can corroborate this?”

“Yes.”

“Their name and relationship to you.” An inexplicable knot tightened in Harry’s stomach as he waited for Snape’s answer.

“Lady Vega Black, who is a nuisance of a Child.”

The evident derision in Snape’s voice put Harry at ease, though he didn’t want to dwell on why.

“Thank you, Rector Snape. Is there anything else you can think of that could possibly aid this investigation?”

Snape sat quietly in thought for a few seconds before his right hand slid Harry’s briefcase to the side. He leant forward and, in a low voice, said, “Yes… But it must be off the record.”

Harry thought about it before giving a nod. “Off the record.” He set down his pen and discreetly cast an _Immobulus_ on the transcriber.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Harry smiled in encouragement.

“What I haven’t disclosed to the Ministry,” Snape began to divulge, “is that I’ve formulated a new potion, Serum of Vitae. It’s why I’m able to be under direct sunlight. But it does more than that. It eliminates the Hunger an immortal has to endure. It literally restores life to an immortal for a length of time.

“Blood is no longer a necessity. Although, bites still have their purposes…” Snape stroked his tongue over the tip of a canine, smirking when Harry bristled and blushed.

“Of course, my not disclosing the existence of the potion doesn’t mean some in the Ministry aren’t aware of it. I’m sure some are. And they’re worried. Very worried. They have reason to be. We are more powerful, both physically and magically, and can live for eternity. And now, my kind is no longer limited to the dark corners of wizarding society.

“Since I’m Rector, I am able to permanently Thrall my Children. At my behest, they _must_ take the potion. Rectors have always commanded their Children to not kill indiscriminately but, in the past, instinct could override the order. Now, it would be impossible for any Child from my Domus to have committed these murders.”

Snape frowned, catching sight of a crime-scene photo that had slipped out from Harry’s briefcase.

“The details of this case do concern me… It could mean there’s a trespassing Child from a foreign Domus in my territory, and...it looks as though ritual Dark magic was performed, but something seems—”

“I’m sorry.” Harry pushed the photo back inside. “Particulars of the case can’t be discussed.” He then stuffed the rest of his belongings into his briefcase, clicking its latch firmly shut before resting his hands on its shiny, black surface.

“I’ll need to speak with Lady Black next; then she and you may need to accompany me afterwards for further questioning at Headquarters.”

Snape laughed, his eyes glittering with amusement. “What is it you were hoping for, hmmm? That if you asked nicely, wearing your pretty suit and your pretty smile, that I would hand over myself and one under my care without a second thought. That I would trust the Ministry to treat us fairly.

“I _know_ what you are doing, Auror Potter. Listening to my plight, empathizing, building a rapport. Attempting to influence my actions. Textbook Auror negotiating tactics.

“Even with your passable Occlumency, your thoughts have always been an open book for me… You might as well be reading me the words.

“Let me guess,” Snape mused, smiling devilishly. “You’re hoping to persuade me to visit the Ministry when so many others have failed. Accolades. A coveted promotion. Or are you hoping for something else…” He lightly slid his forefinger down the length of Harry’s.

Harry’s mouth parted as he sucked in a breath, just stopping himself from closing his eyes in pleasure. Snape’s touch was like a perfect chord thrumming throughout his entire body. After the rush of sensation, he swore he could feel the pulse in his neck throbbing as though it wanted to be pierced by Snape’s tempting fangs. Why was his body reacting so forcefully? This shouldn’t be happening. This _couldn’t_ happen.

Pulling his hands into his lap a bit too quickly, Harry shuddered out a breath, his skin covered in gooseflesh. He gritted his teeth, focusing on strengthening his shields, but it was difficult. His fascination with the relationship shared between Sanguini and Sterling Smith was ever present in the back of his mind.

“Rector Snape, for the sake of the investigation, I must insist you allow me to visit your Domus.”

A grin teasing at his lips, Snape’s eyebrows rose. “You want to visit my lair?”

“Yes… I mean no...” Harry flushed, clenching his jaw. “What I _want_ is to speak with a certain vamp... _immortal_ of interest, in person.”

Snape smiled wide, the sun flashing off his canines showing their elegant curve. “Far be it from me to refuse an Auror what he truly desires.”

Notebook in hand, Snape stood fluidly, bringing attention to his Muggle attire. The lack of colour besides black wasn’t a surprise, but the type of clothing was: a T-shirt and unbuttoned sports jacket worn over a pair of jeans, which hugged his fit thighs, leaving little to the imagination regarding the generous size of his endowment.

“Please follow me,” Snape instructed with a certainty he would be obeyed. “Lady Black’s home and mine aren’t far.”

Realizing his jaw was hanging open, Harry shut it with a click. “Uh…okay,” he mumbled, frowning in confusion. The place of residence listed on Snape’s background sheet was in Cokesworth, not Chelsea.

As Snape strode towards the interior of the restaurant, Harry couldn’t help but appreciate Snape’s tall, graceful form—and the bottom curve of his arse peeking out from under the seam of his sports jacket.

Snape paused and looked over his shoulder. “Coming, Auror Potter?”

Embarrassed by being caught ogling—again—Harry grabbed the handle of his briefcase and raced to catch up.

Side by side, they passed the threshold into the restaurant. Snape’s leisurely pace allowed time for Harry to admire the artwork on the walls at a closer glance.

“These are really brilliant,” Harry commented, hoping to alleviate the awkward silence. “And it looks like they’re for sale. I might have to make a trip back to purchase a few.

“Hermione’s always complaining that my flat looks lifeless… It’s just that I’m busy at work most of the time so decorating has never been a priority.”

“I was once the same way,” Snape said, opening the exit door and holding it for Harry.

As Harry walked past, he could feel Snape’s breath brush his skin as Snape continued to say, “But now I prefer to surround myself with beauty.”

Harry shivered, the urge to offer his neck strong. After taking a deep breath, he inquired, “Where to?”

“It’s south towards the Thames”—Harry’s eyes widened when Snape’s warm hand settled on his lower back—“a fifteen-minute walk at most.”

Gulping, Harry couldn’t decide if the next fifteen minutes would feel like the longest or the shortest of his life.


	2. Chapter Two

Snape and Harry stood in the shadow of a formidable high-rise. Countless rows of windows reflected the blue sky. To their right, ducks, geese, and a pair of swans swam in a manmade lake, and to their left, walking paths meandered through manicured grounds.

Harry craned his neck. “You live  _here_?”

“Were you expecting the sewers or an abandoned building?”

The sides of Harry’s lips twitched wanting to turn into a grin. “You did live and work in the dungeons of Hogwarts for most of your life.”

“And you lived in a lofty tower,” Snape countered with a roguish smile. “Perhaps that’s why you were always in need of rescuing. But it seems we’ve switched places. Now, I live in a tower, and  _you_  are the one lending me your…aid.” His smile broadened as he waited for Harry’s response.

An image of how Harry could lend his aid flashed through Harry’s mind. His neck stretched tautly, his body bare. Freely offering his vein. Letting Snape feast on his magic and blood.

While Harry struggled to come up with a reply, Snape left him behind, his intoxicating scent luring Harry forwards.

Tentatively rounding the corner and approaching the front of the building, Harry noticed how the low rumble of street traffic had grown louder. In the distance past a row of Japanese red maples, he glimpsed a steady stream of vehicles rushing by.

In front of the main entrance, a large porte cochère covered a line of black luxury automobiles idling away in quiet boredom. Snape waited in front of a glass revolving door, his bearing imposing but relaxed. He breathed evenly, and not a hair on his head was out of place, even though he must have moved with cheetah-like speed.

When Harry finally arrived, Snape once again placed his hand on Harry’s back. “For a second, I thought you might have found a shred of self-preservation. After you, Auror Potter.”

Snape’s touch continued to confuse Harry. It scared him, thrilled him, but also sickened him. What was he doing? He was risking everything coming here. All his years of tireless work helping others. All his painstaking hours dealing with bureaucracy and sycophants, steadily climbing the ranks. One small nip of a vampire’s fang could end it all.

Harry reluctantly stepped away from Snape’s touch and towards the open glass wedge, pushing it forwards. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught Snape gazing at him with an intense hunger, clear satisfaction on his face. At first, Harry was glad for the glass divider between himself and Snape’s prowling form, but then, as the door rotated some more, he realized how trapped he truly was; how he had voluntarily walked into a glass cage.

He sighed in relief when he felt air-conditioned air sweep over his perspiring face. As he stepped into the lobby, magic prickled against his skin the same way it always did when he crossed into the wizarding world. However, Harry marvelled at how modern in design and  _Muggle_  his surroundings appeared. No owls perched on the exposed steel beams high above. No magical contraptions of any kind could be seen. The space also lacked any visible Muggle technology. No security cameras. No television screens. Even the lights were fueled by gas, not electricity, which made sense considering magic would interfere with anything electrical.

The majority of the wall to his right served as a decorative water feature. Water smoothly cascaded down a black stone surface, seeming to disappear once it reached the marble floor. The far wall housed three stainless-steel lifts. In the centre of the room, various sharp-angled armchairs and settees sat empty and devoid of any life.

The only living thing Harry found was to his left: a single security guard lounging in a swivel chair behind a heavy but plain walnut desk. The guard looked as if his face should be on the front of a Roman coin: his dark curly hair was styled short, his beard only accentuated his strong jaw, and his nose came close to putting Snape’s to shame.

As Snape and Harry neared, the guard sat up, setting down a Muggle best-seller. Harry was surprised to see a black rotary dial telephone come into view atop the guard’s desk. He also found it amusing that everything on the desk was so thoroughly organized that Hermione could probably pick up a few pointers.

“Good afternoon, Rector,” the guard welcomed Snape, although it sounded more like a question as he glanced over at Harry. “Auror Potter,” he greeted him after an awkward pause.

“Good afternoon, Quin,” Snape said as if Aurors were usually found inside the walls of their Domus. “Anything of note since I’ve been gone?”

“Yes…” Quin pressed his lips together, his eyes switching between Harry and Snape. When Snape didn’t say anything, Quin relaxed back into his chair. “A gaggle from the pure-blood coterie left about an hour ago. Lady Black  _informed me_ ,” he rolled his eyes, “that they would be going to Diagon Alley for a shopping expedition with the possibility of a detour to Bond Street.”

Snape sighed. “When are they expected to return?”

“Six o’clock.”

Snape turned his attention to Harry, his piercing gaze setting off Harry’s fight-or-flight response. “Auror Potter, are you available to wait with me for the next two hours?”

“With you?” Harry asked, worry creasing his forehead.

“ _Only_  with me…” Snape answered, a curious and amused expression on his face.

Two hours alone with Snape, a vampire. And not just any vampire, but a Rector, the most powerful type of vampire known for their potent Thrall… But maybe this was what Snape wanted him to think. Maybe this was all a ploy to get him to leave, to scare him off like all the others.

Straightening his back, Harry calmly replied, “Waiting will be fine.”

Snape’s jaw clenched, and Harry mentally cheered.

“Quin, please forward Lady Black to my flat as soon as she returns and add Auror Potter to the list of visitors.”

“My pleasure, Rector,” Quin grinned, a knowing look on his face.

Snape acknowledged Quin with a warm smile.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. Exactly, what sort of relationship did Snape and Quin share?

With a brush of his fingers on Harry’s arm to get his attention, Snape ushered Harry towards the lifts. When they were a few paces away, the lift on the left opened, and exiting from it were ten—

“Rector Snape,” the group said in unison with a dip of their heads.

—ten  _immortals_ , Harry realized.

“Children.” Snape gave them the same fond look Harry remembered Snape’s Slytherins were lucky enough to receive during their time at Hogwarts.

Harry studied the mix of men and women as they passed by. None of them seemed dark or brooding. Only one was pale, but his nose and cheeks appeared warm and rosy from mild sunburn; new freckles dusted his fair skin from recent sun exposure.

“How many immortals live here?” Harry wondered aloud.

“Most of my Domus now resides here,” Severus answered. “The entire building was purchased for this very purpose about a year ago. The amenities are quite extensive: two fully staffed kitchens, a gym, and a deck pool, to name a few. The excellent security without having to hole up underground in a dank, windowless chamber is an added bonus.”

Harry's eyes were large as he started for the closing doors of the lift. Snape’s hand grabbed Harry’s shoulder, holding him back.

“My flat can only be accessed by the middle lift.”

As if summoned by Snape’s words alone, a ding heralded said lift’s arrival.

After entering the cold, stark metal box, Harry leaned against its back wall. He tried to project an image of confidence and calm, but his heart popped about his chest like a flock of Diricawls. His heartbeat might as well have been his own voice saying, “fuckfuckfuck...” To Snape’s otherworldly hearing, it was loud and clear how nervous Harry truly was.

Snape aimed his wand at the button panel. A white spark flew from the tip of his wand and into a keyhole.

Harry scrambled to grab ahold of the handrail when the lift shot up as fast as the lifts found in the Ministry.

Up and up and up they went, until the light showing the floor level moved across the full length of the door, stopping on  _PH_.

The doors of the elevator opened, and Harry was taken by the unexpected beauty beyond.

A long, vaulted corridor, painted white, displayed numerous masterpieces by artists such as da Vinci, Van Gogh, and Monet, to name a few.

Harry gaped as he passed through the gallery; he was looking at a lost treasure trove.

“H-how?” Harry stuttered.

“Benefactions from my Children.” Snape smiled. “It’s not so outlandish to fathom when one remembers many of them have been alive for centuries.”

The corridor ended, and bright sunlight shone into the room through a wall of two-story windows, which framed a breathtaking view of the River Thames and Battersea Park.

Taking in the large open space, Harry realized Snape lived in a gigantic studio flat. A modern kitchen, a sitting area, and a king-sized bed all filled the same space. There was one door that led to another room, which must be the bathroom and where his wardrobe was located.

Harry smiled when he realized Snape decorated his home with artwork from the same local artist displayed at The Bohemian. A miniature replica of the hand sculpture hung from the wall next to an…easel.

He strolled further into the flat and turn around. On the left side of the room were bookcases stuffed full of books, and on the right, paints, brushes, unopened boxes of clay, and other artist tools filled shelves neatly. Leaning against another wall, completed paintings were piled one on top of the other.

Harry gasped. “ _You’re_  the artist,” he breathed as overwhelming emotion hit him. He spun around absorbing what he was seeing. Knowing who the artist was, better understanding the symbolism hidden within each work, Harry’s chest ached. He blinked his eyes rapidly, not wanting any tears to fall free.

“Have you always been one?” Harry husked, walking up to a seven-by-seven-foot canvas. Snape’s strokes were precise, but his technique, how he layered each stroke, was brilliant. And the vibrancy. Joyful yellows, sorrowful blues, passionate reds, mixing and creating something with its very own soul. “This is so beautiful,” he whispered to himself.

“Thank you,” Snape said, coming to stand next to Harry. “Before Hogwarts, I drew as a means of escape.” He opened his notebook revealing a drawing of the terrace at The Bohemian, which included an outline of Harry sitting at their table. “But once I discovered potions and magic, they became my life.

“After I died and woke up Turned, I could see an entire spectrum of colours I’d never seen before. My transformed eyesight opened up another new world. I had to somehow capture it. My first attempts were abysmal, but I’ve steadily improved over the years.

“However, I will always be a potioneer. My laboratory is on one of the basement levels.”

“I’m afraid I’m at a loss.” Harry tore his eyes away from the painting and gazed at Snape. “But you’ve always managed to surprise me in one way or another.” He smiled shyly. “Seeing your work. Being invited into your home. It’s a true honour, Rector Snape.”

“Auror Potter, we are in the privacy of my home. There is no need for such formality here. Please, call me Severus.”

“Thank you, uh…Severus. Likewise, please, call me Harry.”

“As you wish…Harry.”

Hearing his first name spoken by Severus felt like the most decadent of caramels had melted on his tongue. The simple fact that he so naturally switched from ‘Snape’ to ‘Severus’ in his mind both delighted and terrified him. With that slight mental shift, a door Harry thought he would forever be bracing shut cracked open.

“Let’s get comfortable so I can tell you one of the longest kept secrets known to immortals,” Severus prompted, gesturing towards cushioned stools standing sentry before the kitchen island.

Harry set his briefcase next to the legs of one stool and took a seat. He folded his hands, resting them on the worktop made of a single piece of thick, clear glass. The unique worktop created a modern art piece of Severus’s organized tea towels and other kitchen utensils in the drawers below.    

“I’m parched,” Severus said, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his fangs again flirting. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” Harry answered with as much boldness as he could muster.

Severus grinned and pulled out his wand. With a wordless flick, water floated into a bright red kettle sitting on the stove, and the burner below it whooshed on. Tea leaves from a tin swooped into a fancy teapot with a built-in infuser, and along with it, a pair of matching cups and saucers landed in front of them. With the grace of a dancer, Severus then eased off his jacket as he prowled around the island.

Harry followed Severus with his eyes, admiring Severus’s bare arms: tanned, lightly haired, and free from any blemish, from any reminder of his past. His T-shirt moulded to his chest and long torso, the firmness of the muscles beneath clear. Severus’s movements and body held a power and finesse that enthralled Harry. More and more, Harry felt as if he were prey being lured to its doom.

Coming to stand behind Harry, Severus asked, “May I store your jacket and briefcase in the wardrobe?”

Harry shivered. “Uh…yes. Thank you.” He moved to take off his jacket.

“Allow me.” Severus placed one hand on Harry’s shoulder, his other hand sliding down the length of Harry’s arm, freeing it from the sleeve.

Holding out his other arm, Harry closed his eyes as Severus finished slipping off his jacket. Harry sighed in pleasure as air cooled his sweaty skin through his mauve cotton shirt. The change in temperature was the perfect excuse to explain away why his nipples were so hard.

After Severus left to put away their things, Harry reached to loosen his tie but decided against it. As hospitable as Severus was being, Harry couldn’t forget why he was here. He needed to bring in Severus for formal questioning. His career depended on it. The higher up the ranks he climbed, the more power he garnered, the more he’d be able to help those who really needed it.

“How do you take your cuppa?” Severus asked, startling Harry with his stealth.

Relaxing his tense muscles, Harry answered, “White with sugar, please.”

Severus nodded before rounding the island. He shut off the stove right as the whistle of the kettle peeped. Lifting the lid off the teapot, he poured in some steaming water, returning the lid. He also poured water into each of their cups to warm them before setting the kettle back on the stove.

From the Glacius-brand wizarding fridge, Severus pulled out a small jug of milk. Then he retrieved a sugar bowl from the cabinet just to the right of the fridge. He set both down next to the teapot but made no move to come around and take a seat next to Harry.

To break the silence, Harry grinned and asked, “So, what is this big secret you want to let me in on?”

“You must first promise to not tell a soul,” Severus said with mirthful solemnity.

“Okay… I promise.”

“Onfroi.”

“Own…what?”

“Chef Onfroi is the best pastry chef in the world and has been for the last seven centuries.”

Harry’s face lit up with excitement. “Pastries?”

“After one taste, you’ll be ruined for life.”

“Are you speaking about the chef’s pastries or yourself?” Harry quipped without thinking.

Severus laughed in surprise. “Both, of course.”

Harry blushed bright red.  _Bloody fucking idiot_ , he scolded himself. He couldn’t let his cock hijack his brain. Severus’s allure was no excuse.

“Chef Onfroi has a knack for knowing exactly what will satisfy a person’s cravings,” Severus went on to explain, checking the temperature of the tea by touching two fingers to the side of the teapot. “But he does accept requests. Is there anything, in particular, you’d like to try?”

Gulping, Harry wished Severus’s voice didn’t sound like pure sex. His mind refused to stop twisting Severus’s words into something more indecent. If he didn’t want to trigger Severus’s instincts, he really needed to get a better handle on his arousal. “Ummm, I’ll leave it to you, I mean, him.”

For a moment, Severus stilled, breathing in deeply, closing his eyes in obvious pleasure. Clenching his jaw hard, he spun around and strode towards the opposite worktop and what appeared to be a stainless-steel dumbwaiter. He opened a drawer, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill.

“I had a light lunch and am hungry,” Severus said, the last word throatier than the rest. “I insist you join me for an early dinner.”

“I missed lunch altogether,” Harry quickly replied with an uncertain smile, trying to decrease the tension he felt in the air. “Dinner sounds brilliant.”

Severus scribbled something on the parchment and then slid open the door to the dumbwaiter, setting the note inside.

Harry leaned to the side to get a better view but couldn’t locate any buttons or a rope to a pulley system.

Replacing the quill in the drawer, Snape grabbed a handful of something else.

“Kitchens,” Severus enunciated carefully.

The familiar green flame of burning Floo powder flared brightly in the small metal space.

Severus Vanished the small pile of ash before turning to see Harry’s inquiring expression.

“Intra-Floo Network,” Severus explained, although he didn’t elaborate any further. Harry  _was_  still a Ministry employee.

After checking the temperature of their tea again, Severus dumped the water from their cups into the sink. As he poured the tea into their warmed cups, the bell above the dumbwaiter jingled.

“Perfect timing as always,” Severus remarked.

Severus went over to open the dumbwaiter and pulled out a small dish with a domed lid. On his way back, he also grabbed utensils and napkins.

Severus finally sat down beside him, and Harry found himself relaxing as Severus’s heady scent wrapped around him. Severus was so close that their knees touched, the barest of contact making Harry throb. He let his eyes feast on Severus’s body, appreciating the bulge of Severus’s thigh muscles within the tight fabric of his jeans and the smooth skin of his arm and neck.

Severus, on the other hand, busied himself with properly laying down their cutlery. Satisfied, he pointed his wand at the covered dish located a small distance beyond their teacups. “ _Engorgio_.”

An icy blue light encircled the dish until it finished growing into a rather large tray.

As soon as Severus levitated the lid off, Harry moaned at the sight in front of him: plates or bowls of biscuits, tarts, and other puddings filled the entire tray. He lowered his head and breathed in the fragrant, sugary scent wafting upwards. It mixed with Severus’s own scent, and for a moment, Harry lost himself to the decadent smells around him.

“Help yourself,” Severus invited. “Dinner will arrive in a few minutes.”

Harry examined all the offerings and did spot a gorgeous treacle tart; flakes of real gold even adorned the top of it. But he first wanted to try something he’d never eaten before. He decided on a miniature baumkuchen. The numerous, thin layers of the round vanilla cake resembled the many rings of an ancient tree. An orange-flavoured glaze coated the outside layer, and fragile candy sculptures of flowers decorated one side.

While Harry prepared his tea, Severus took a sip of his plain brew and then chose a gooey, whimsically decorated tart. Smiling, Severus took a bite, closed his eyes, and hummed in appreciation.

“This has always been my favourite pudding since primary,” Severus shared before scooping another forkful.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had it before,” Harry said, identifying shortcrust, custard, and a red jam.

“It’s a Manchester tart. Here, have a taste.” Severus held his fork in front of Harry’s lips.

Harry opened his mouth and allowed Severus to slip the sweet bite into his mouth. The heat between them flared as Severus slowly slid the tongs of the fork from Harry’s closed lips.

“Mmmmm,” Harry moaned as he began to chew. He closed his eyes, savouring every flavour. The custard was like silk on his tongue, and the tartness of the raspberry jam perfectly balanced the sweetness.

Opening his eyes after swallowing, Harry felt his heart skip a beat. Severus was staring straight at his mouth.

“You have a bit of jam,” Severus touched his thumb to Harry’s lips, “here.” He then deliberately slid his thumb across Harry’s bottom lip before bringing it to his lips and sucking the bit of sticky, red residue off his digit.

Harry knew his mouth hung open, but he didn’t care; he had never been so aroused in all his life. He wanted Severus, and he wanted Severus to have him. He wanted Severus moaning at the taste of him. He wanted it to be his blood decorating Severus’s lips, not silly jam.  _No_! He must be feeling this way because of Severus’s Thrall. He was stronger than this. There were lives on the line.

With as much dignity as he could, Harry asked, “While we’re waiting for dinner, can you tell me about Lady Black? Ministry reports suggest that she’s your Capio.”

“Lady Black, my Capio?” Severus broke into low, sexy laughter.

Harry couldn’t help but grin at Severus’s amused response but then had to glance away. Severus looked so bloody handsome, it hurt.

“No, Quin is my Capio: my second and successor.”

“Quin…the guard?”

“The very same. He’s a Turned-Muggle, but he’s also been alive for over two millennia.”

“Millennia,” Harry repeated in disbelief.

“His power comes from strictly immortal magic, but it’s vast nonetheless. Once I am no longer, he will be the first-ever Muggle-Turned Rector for Domus Aes.”

So Quin was Severus’s Capio, Harry thought with worry. That didn’t bode well for them not being… _close_.

“But you wanted to know about Lady Black.” Severus took another sip of his tea. “She is a member of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Or she was until her pursuit of immortality had her disowned a few centuries back. However, her death didn’t ease her stance on blood status or lessen her hatred for Muggles.

“She and all her little lackeys abhor me because I’m a half-blood. But it matters little to me. They are a small minority within the Domus and must obey my Thrall regardless.”

“A very wise wizard once told me: it only takes one idiot tossing a Floffer seed into a cauldron to turn an innocent classroom into a den of depravity,” Harry said, managing to keep a straight face.

Severus, on the other hand, laughed mid-swallow, choking on his tea.

Unable to hold back his own laughter, Harry chortled around a mouthful of cake.

Severus wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Very wise words, indeed.” His fangs flashed. “I’ll be sure to keep them in mind. And you’re right. It’s foolish to underestimate the possible stupidity of a dunderhead. I’ll be sure to keep an even closer eye on Lady Black.”

Harry smiled.

* * *

After a delicious dinner and more pudding, Severus and Harry moved their conversation to the sofa in the sitting area. They were actually enjoying themselves, sitting close to one another.

“It’s a slippery slope,” Severus stressed. “At least with a potion, there’s less room for abuse.”

“It doesn’t matter if the method used is a potion or a curse,” Harry countered. “The same paperwork will need to be approved before application. I think the Interrogation Curse will prove better than Veritaserum. Veritaserum can be tampered with, and because of its unreliable results, testimony while on it isn’t admissible. The curse solves these problems.”

“It’s still Dark magic being used by the Ministry.”

“Not the entire Ministry, only qualified Aurors.”

“Such as yourself?”

“Such as myself,” Harry answered, grinning.

Severus chuckled at Harry’s cheekiness. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a…lively discussion. My Children’s obeisance tends to make them hold their tongues.” He leaned back, relaxing into the cushions.

With a clear view of the side table next to Severus, Harry noticed a small painting displayed on top. In the painting, two men gazed at each other. Severus’s skill with a brush perfectly captured their love for one another. They must be very important to Severus if he kept a memento of them so close.

“That painting’s beautiful. Who are they?” Harry asked, indicating which one with his finger.

“Ah,” Severus uttered, already knowing which piece Harry referred to.

Severus reached over and grabbed a corner of the silver frame housing the painting. As he folded down the black-velvet easel and handed it to Harry, he said, “I painted this over ten years ago. They are Sanguini and his beloved, Sterling.”

Harry gasped, gripping both sides of the frame harder. “Sterling Smith…” Harry whispered in awe.

“Yes…” Severus frowned. Irritated, he asked, “Sterling was well protected and immortals aren’t allowed to mention him outside of the Domus. How does the Ministry know of him?”

“I don’t believe they do… I came across his name during my own research.” Harry returned the painting to Severus. “Why? Is he in danger?”

“Not anymore.” Severus looked down at the canvas sadly. “Sterling became terminally ill and refused to be Turned. Soon after his diagnosis, Sanguini approached me and proposed a deal: if I promised to serve him and provide potions to help Sterling, he would Turn me if I was ever at death’s door.

“He kept his promise, and I have kept mine. Sterling lived years longer than he would have on Muggle treatments alone…” Severus gazed out towards the view of the dimming horizon. “But I was unable to find a cure in time.

“Sterling wasn’t just Sanguini’s lover; he was Sanguini’s Cor, his heart. They had a bond stronger than the strongest of Thralls… Once Sterling died, Sanguini lost his will to exist and decided to meet the sun.”

Severus placed the painting on the glass coffee table in front of them.

“When Sanguini had asked me to serve him, I hadn’t fully understood to what extent he’d meant. A Rector’s word is ironclad. Before he left, he proclaimed me Rector, and my fate was sealed.

“Now as Rector, my sole duty is to protect and care for all my Children. And they  _are_  my Children,” Severus stressed, gazing into Harry’s eyes. “I feel a connection to each and every one of them underneath my skin, in my very blood.”

Severus leaned in closer to Harry, spiking Harry’s arousal and fear.

“Harry, I’m not the same person I once was. And I don’t merely mean my appearance. For too long, I shackled my desires and needs. I let the wishes and needs of others dictate my life, stunting my own. Now Turned, I no longer tolerate it. I want you. The moment I saw you with my new eyes, I knew you would be  _mine_.”

Harry’s breathing became frantic. “W-what about Quin…”

“Quin?” Severus chuckled. “He is my Capio and a loyal friend but nothing more.”

Severus cupped the back of Harry’s neck, drawing him closer. “I finally understand what Sanguini meant… Don’t you sense it, Harry, our connection? I haven’t used my Thrall since we were at The Bohemian.”

“No…” Harry shook his head, refusing to believe.

“ _You_  are my Cor,” Severus insisted. “The Serum of Vitae has returned my heartbeat, but since I’ve been Turned, only you have ever made it beat faster…

“Let yourself feel. Tear down your walls. Let yourself have me.”

Harry could feel Severus’s warm breath on his lips. Staring at each other, they only breathed. Severus’s mouth hovered so close. Harry’s body raged with heat and want and indecision… Just…one kiss.

Harry tipped his head up, his eyelids fluttering shut. Severus gently captured his lips: the pressing of warm flesh on warm flesh, smooth and soft, hints of tea and lingering sweetness. When Severus lightly bit Harry’s bottom lip, Harry whimpered. He grabbed onto Severus’s T-shirt, needing something to anchor him so he wasn’t swept away by the intensity of his emotions.

One kiss… It had to be only one kiss. If he surrendered himself to be Claimed, he would lose his job, lose any hope of working his way to Head, of helping those who got lost in the cracks. Becoming Claimed took only one bite and meant forever being at the mercy of that vampire’s Thrall. He would still be human; death was required to be Turned, but it wouldn’t matter to the Ministry.

Harry broke the kiss. “I-I’m sorry… I can’t.” He felt his heart clench.

“I swear,” Severus said softly, his thumb stroking Harry’s throat, “I won’t bite unless you wish it, but…allow me to taste you in other ways.”

When Harry didn’t pull away, Severus slipped his tongue between Harry’s lips, and deepened the kiss, feeding off of Harry’s shudders, whimpers, and moans.

Harry wrapped his arms around Severus’s back, opening his mouth wider. This was so different than what he had read about between Sanguini and Sterling. This was supposed to be ice and fire. But Severus felt warm and alive to the point that Severus’s mouth and skin scorched him, burning away all his reason. Without a second thought, Harry stroked the length of Severus’s right fang with his tongue, teasing its sharp tip as Sterling had loved to do so often to Sanguini.

Severus’s chest rumbled with a pained moan.

Harry gasped, finding himself lying on the sofa. The rip of his tie and the clatter of his shirt buttons froze him in place. He looked down warily as Severus licked a long stripe from his belly button up to between his pecs, having to lift his chin when Severus continued on over his Adam's apple.

Harry’s heart hammered. He was putting his trust in Severus not to puncture his skin. But Severus’s fangs were so close to his neck. Harry stilled, holding his breath; then sighed in relief when all Severus did was place a chaste kiss on his pulse point. Closing his eyes, Harry allowed himself to relax.

Severus kissed the inside of each of Harry’s elbows and wrists. Then he caged Harry’s wrists with his left hand above Harry’s head.

A second later, Harry cried out when Severus laved his left nipple, arching when Severus nibbled on it.  _Ah, fuck_! It had been months since he’d shagged and years since it’d been anything but a quick tumble.

Harry panted through his parted lips. Lids hooded, he gazed up at the high ceiling and blinked, frowning when he noticed the orientation of the exposed beams above had changed. Looking around, he realized Severus had Apparated them to the bed. Harry’s eyes widened. There had been no sound, no queasiness. The magnitude of Severus’s increased magical ability hit Harry. He knew if the Ministry ever found out the true extent of it, they would stop at nothing to—

Severus flipped Harry onto his stomach, cutting Harry’s thought short. He heard the clack of his wand landing on the floor; then watched as pieces of his remaining clothing landed around him, Severus tearing them off as if they were made of parchment.

Severus’s warm hands then slid over the curve of Harry’s exposed bum and down his toned thighs. “I could spend days painting just this,” Severus said, his voice rough with arousal. He bent down and kissed the backs of Harry’s knees. Then, he encouraged Harry onto his hands and knees.

“Don’t move,” Severus demanded.

Harry swallowed hard when Severus spread apart his arse cheeks.

“You’ve made me so hungry,” Severus growled. “Merlin…I’ve never been so hungry.”

At the first feel of Severus’s tongue on his opening, Harry moaned a long, guttural, “Fuuuuck.” Pre-cum dribbled from his cock onto the pristine white duvet.

Severus licked and delved into Harry’s arse with his tongue while his hands cupped and squeezed Harry’s balls. He massaged Harry’s perineum and reverently glided his hands over Harry’s skin.

Harry didn’t know how long Severus had indulged himself at his bumhole, but it was long enough that a large puddle of pre-cum had accumulated below him. His hands clawed at the duvet. His arms and legs shook. Harry was desperate for more. “Severus, please…please. My cock… Please touch my cock.”

Harry found himself once again on his back.

“You want me to touch your cock,” Severus stated before he kissed both of Harry’s ankle joints and the tops of his feet. “But I want to touch every inch of you.”

His neck. The inside of his elbows, wrists, and knees. The tops of his feet. Harry realized what Severus was doing: he was kissing all of the arterial points near the surface of his skin. His breathing quickened when he realized there was only one left.

As Severus drew closer to the pulse point of Harry’s inner thigh, he placed bites along the way, careful not to break Harry’s skin. Every light nip caused Harry’s cock to jump and more pre-cum to leak out.

“Fuck, yes,” Harry hissed when Severus wrapped his hand around Harry’s neglected length, giving it a firm stroke. He gasped as Severus’s magic plunged into his arse; then moaned as conjured lube trickled out and over his tailbone.

While pumping Harry’s length, Severus kissed the pulse over Harry’s femoral artery and pushed a finger into Harry’s slick hole, finding his prostate.

“ _Ah_!” Harry writhed, his neck arching as Severus added a second finger, scissoring them to stretch Harry’s opening. “Severus…ah, fuck…  _Yes_ …”

As Severus inserted a third finger, he began sucking the flesh of Harry’s inner thigh, harder and harder.

Harry's mouth opened, a sound catching in his throat. His back bowed, the final teasing scrape of Severus’s fangs pushing him over. Closing his eyes, Harry heard Severus’s moan of pleasure as his arse muscles and cock rhythmically began to pulse, as his heart pumped blood even faster through his veins.

Breathing hard after his completion, Harry gazed dazedly with wonder at Severus. Severus Snape, the Rector of Domus Aes, had just given him the best wank of his life.

Severus stared back and smiled before he started cleaning Harry’s softening cock with his tongue. “You taste better than the finest of puddings,” Severus murmured between licks.

“Uhhhnnn…” Harry moaned, having to shut his eyes for a moment. “W-what about you?”

Severus stopped his ministrations. A predatory glint filled his eyes as he crawled up Harry’s body, his jeans rubbing against Harry’s bare legs. Straddling Harry’s chest, Severus yanked his T-shirt up and over his head.

Harry stared dumbfounded. Flawless skin enhanced the lines and curves of Severus’s muscled chest and stomach. A smattering of hair covered Severus’s chest, and an enticing trail disappeared underneath his jeans.  

“Give me your hands,” Severus ordered, holding out his own.

Harry placed his fingers on Severus’s palms, and Severus brought them to the button of his jeans.

“I want you to be absolutely sure.”

“I am.” His hands only slightly shaky, Harry unbuttoned Severus’s jeans, slid down the zip, and tugged the tight-fitting trousers down Severus’s hips.

The outline of Severus’s generous endowment came into view. The waistband of his trunks kept it from sticking out the top, but it was so long it stretched the cotton fabric and protruded far past his left hipbone.

“Red trunks?” Harry commented with a wry grin.

Severus smiled wide, displaying his fangs. “It’s my new favourite colour.”

Harry laughed nervously. But with renewed confidence, he sat up and lowered Severus’s pants.

The head of Severus’s cock glistened with pre-cum, and his balls hung heavy. Harry forwent both and instead began sucking the flesh over the pulse point of Severus’s femoral artery.

Severus’s long, low moan was enough to stir Harry’s own member into wakefulness. Harry sucked harder, marking Severus’s skin with a red imprint of his teeth while inhaling deep breaths of Severus’s intoxicating scent.

Air whooshed out of Harry’s lungs. He found himself pushed flat on his back once more, staring into Severus’s eyes only a hand’s width away. He could feel the tip of Severus’s prick against his opening.

“Lower your shields,” Severus growled.

Harry cried out as Severus thrust the full length of his cock into Harry’s well-prepared passage and, without pause, began fucking Harry into the mattress.

“Ah, ah, ah…Severus,” Harry panted, his cock hardening further.

“Fuck…you feel…” Severus clenched his teeth, puncturing his bottom lip. He licked his lip clean, moaning at the taste. “Open your mind to me. Show me what you truly want.”

“Oh…Merlin,” Harry moaned. Severus looked and felt like the powerful Rector he was: otherworldly, frightening, but also heart-achingly beautiful. Harry let his Occlumency shields fall.

Severus gasped in surprise at the influx of images from Harry’s mind, then growled in triumph.

“You’re mine,” he said with an even more forceful thrust of his hips. “You’ve always been mine. Tell me, while reading Sterling’s diary, whom did you imagine at your neck? Whom did you imagine in your body?”

Tears prickled in Harry’s eyes. “You. Always you,” Harry whispered, letting his head tilt back and to the side, baring his neck as he’d dreamed of countless times.

Severus placed a tender kiss on Harry’s neck. “Beautiful…” Fangs sank into flesh and both men groaned.

A blissful fire tore through Harry’s veins and tears trickled from his eyes at the knowledge of what he’d given up. But the ecstasy of Severus’s bite. It surpassed all physical pleasure and pain he’d ever experienced. For a few seconds, he floated above everything. He could feel his magic and blood eagerly leaving his body to nourish Severus. He could feel Severus’s pleasure from his open willingness.

Severus bit him again. And again. Harry bowed his back and cried out even as Severus drank deeper. Thick streams of come spilt from Harry’s cock as his blood continued to spill into Severus’s mouth.

“Severus…” Harry said weakly, his heart pounding erratically. His nails dug into Severus’s back, drawing blood. “Stop…”

Gasping, Severus forced himself from Harry’s neck. With a pleased feral grin on his face, he hoisted Harry’s legs up over his shoulders and pounded into Harry, roaring his completion.

In a fuzzy state, Harry thought how odd days could be. Most days hardly anything happened, but on other days, so much happened that it was nearly impossible to process everything. The day he lost Sirius was one such day. The day he beat Tom Riddle was another. And today. He’d lost his autonomy, but gained…he wasn’t quite sure yet. But whatever it was, it was filling him to the brim, making him feel as if his life had finally begun.

“Drink, my Cor…”

Harry felt the warmth of Severus’s skin on his lips and then tasted pure sweetness on his tongue. With such intimacy, Severus held him as he drank, his strength slowly returning, fighting back the risk of death and the possibility of him being Turned.

The ding of the lift startled them both, and an instant later, Lady Black loomed beside the bed, glaring down at them.

“My Rector,” she said with a sneer, “you wish to speak to me,  _again_.”


	3. Chapter Three

Lady Black fully bared her fangs at Harry, her long, black hair and chic, expensive attire fluttering in her ire.

Harry attempted to scramble off the bed for his wand, but Severus held him close.

“ _Show my Cor the proper respect_ ,” Severus barked, his powerful Thrall raising the hairs on Harry’s body.

Lady Black gasped, her eyes widening. Lowering her head, she curtsied. “I apologize for my rudeness, Master Potter. I’m Lady Vega Black. A pleasure to meet you.” Once she finished speaking, her body stiffened, and an inferno of revulsion and hatred returned to her eyes.

Keeping an eye on Lady Black, Severus kissed Harry’s lips before he affectionately licked them clean of any residual blood. “It’ll take a few more minutes for your blood to replenish completely. Rest while I see to Lady Black.”

Severus peered at Lady Black and, with a politeness she didn’t deserve, said, “Please meet me in the main sitting area.” He then helped Harry lie down, tucking him under the bedclothes.

As Severus left his side, Harry had the urge to pull him back down. He had just discovered Severus was  _his_  and hated the idea of Severus leaving him for even a second, especially with such a volatile woman. Not to mention, he should be the one questioning her, not Severus. Until the Auror Department gave him his cards, he still had a job to do.

Feeling stronger, Harry made to get up when Lady Black stormed past again.

“Sanguini’s only ever fault during his centuries as Rector was choosing you as his successor,” Lady Black hissed, glaring at Severus. “We cannot lay a hand on you unbidden, but you are not invulnerable. You won’t always be able to fall back on your Thrall. I can only hope an ill fate finds you soon, my Rector.”

She spun in Harry’s direction and again curtsied. “Master Potter.” Lady Black snarled in disgust before disappearing down the corridor and into the lift.

Severus sighed in exasperation.

His eyes round, Harry dared to ask, “How’d the questioning go?”

“As expected...” Severus faced him and then froze. “Don’t move. I need to fetch something.”

While Harry waited, he fidgeted with the white sheet partially covering his body.

Severus soon returned, carrying a sketchbook and a box of pencils. He smiled. “Stay just as you are.”

* * *

Harry enjoyed the feel of the sleek trousers and collared silk shirt—both black, of course—that Severus had resized for him. However, knowing he was wearing a pair of Severus’s trunks was wreaking havoc with his libido. At the moment, his briefcase hid more than just Ministry documents.

“Good evening, Rector. Master Potter,” Quin greeted as they strolled past, bowing his head in deference.

Harry frowned at the formal title and behaviour, and then it dawned on him just how far-reaching Severus’s Thrall actually was: Severus hadn’t only commanded Lady Black; he had commanded his entire Domus on Harry’s behalf. Harry managed to hold back a moan when his erection worsened.

“Will you be taking a car?” Quin asked, lifting the handset of the telephone.

“Yes, I believe we will. Thank you, Quin.”

Quin acknowledged Severus with a nod and spoke into the receiver.

As they exited the building, the headlights of a black limousine shone on them before the car rolled to a stop.

Severus opened the rear passenger door. “After you.”

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled, flustered by Severus’s gallantry and charming smile.

Harry scooted across the leather seats, setting his jacket on his lap and placing his briefcase on the floor. Severus shut the door and slid in next to him.

Reflected in the rear-view mirror, Harry saw the pale-blue eyes of the chauffeur through the lowered partition.

“Destination,” the chauffeur requested without a greeting, making Harry infer he was a Muggle.

Harry gave the address of the most recent homicide.

“Not far, but might take a bit. Traffic’s a right mess.” The chauffeur shifted out of park and eased out from underneath the porte cochère.

Harry heard the click of a button and watched as the partition rose, offering Severus and Harry privacy. For the next few seconds of silence, all Harry could focus on was the heat of Severus’s body against his left side.

“You don’t have to hide it,” Severus murmured into Harry’s ear.

“Hide what?”

“Your arousal.” Severus tugged Harry’s jacket from his lap. “There’s no need. I can smell it.” With both hands, he took hold of Harry’s face, tilting it up. “I can see it in your eyes… I can hear it in the beat of your—

Harry kissed him, igniting his pent-up lust. It had been exquisite torture lying naked while Severus had drawn him, studying his body in minute detail with his hungry gaze. Only an hour had passed since they’d bedded one another, but Harry already craved him again.

Scrambling into Severus’s lap, Harry moaned when he felt Severus’s matching erection. Harry deepened the kiss, licking Severus’s fangs, loving Severus’s restrained sounds of pleasure. He gyrated his pelvis, creating a delicious friction.

For many minutes, they snogged, the building burn between their cocks utter bliss.

“Harry,” Severus gasped, squeezing Harry’s biceps. “We must stop, or I’ll take you here.”

Harry shook his head in refusal. He was so close. He needed—Harry bit down on Severus’s neck so hard his blunt teeth drew blood. He moaned at the taste, sucking, licking. Yes, this was what he’d needed.

Severus’s bared his fangs and let out a throaty groan. He gripped onto Harry’s hips, pulling him closer, grinding their cocks together with ardent force.

Harry cried out and then sank his teeth back into Severus’s neck as he came. Severus grunted and arched his neck, also finding release.

Both gasping, they took a moment to realize that the limousine had stopped and now idled in park.

Feeling sated and languid, Harry licked Severus’s neck clean with long, slow strokes. Then leaning back, he looked at Severus and grinned.

“Better?” Severus asked, running his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair.

“Mmmm,” Harry responded, nodding.

Severus grew serious. “Harry, are you sure you want me to accompany you? I can tell how much you value your work. I don’t want to jeopardize it any more than necessary.”

At first, Harry’s heart skipped a beat at Severus’s understanding words. Then after some more thought, he sobered. “I was only recently assigned the case, so I haven’t visited any of the prior murder scenes. I know allowing you in with me won’t follow protocol, but something about this case hasn’t sat well with me since it landed on my desk. I’d feel better if you came with me.”

Warmth filled Severus’s eyes, and he smiled. “Good… It’ll save me having to sneak in later.”

Harry snorted out a laugh.

After casting a  _Tergeo_  on their trousers, Severus exited the limousine and offered a hand to Harry, helping him out. They stood on a residential street, which backed Brompton Cemetery. White trim and red doors added much-needed colour to the line of beige brick homes.

Harry led them up the stairs to the door with a brass  _117_  on it. He applied charms to Severus and himself to prevent them from contaminating the scene, then went to work removing the spells preserving and protecting the residence.

Once inside, Harry found the light switch and turned it on. The fragrance of amaryllis-and-rosemary potpourri permeated the air. The furnishings were dated but well-kept, and framed pictures of the deceased’s family littered the floral-wallpapered walls.

Harry and Severus continued deeper into the house, passing through a narrow pantry. Harry flipped the light switch to the kitchen where they stopped.

Taking up a majority of the floor, lines of runes written in blood created an eight-pointed star. The bloodless body that had sat atop it had been taken to Headquarters hours ago.

Severus entered the room further, examining the magical symbols and scenting the air.

“I smell death…sickness…and Muggles.”

“The victim was a Mug—“

“Only Muggles,” Severus stressed. “There’s no scent of any kind of a magical being having ever been here. And…I feel nothing.”

“Nothing?” Harry frowned. “Nothing of what?”

“Dark magic. As a Dark creature, I’m able to sense it. The magical runes are made correctly, though they lack finesse. This area should be saturated with Dark magic residue, but I feel nothing.”

Harry’s eyes widen in realization. “That means… Muggles… Muggles have done this.”

“One. One Muggle,” Severus stated with surety. “Likely one that somehow found a copy of a Dark Arts grimoire.”

“I need to report this to Headquarters straight away. The Lead Detective will be able to inform the proper authorities that we might have a Muggle serial killer on the loose. I’ll also want to stop by my office to review the case materials. With this new hypothesis, maybe I can connect some dots.”

“I shall come with you,” Severus insisted.

Harry felt chills claw over his skin. He should be overjoyed. This was what he had set out to do: bring Rector Snape into the Ministry. But now, the thought of Severus being anywhere near the Ministry terrified him. “No… I don’t think…”

Severus grinned at Harry’s concern. “Don’t worry, Harry. I’m not going to march in as if I were a headstrong Gryffindor.” He laced the fingers of his right hand through Harry’s left and squeezed. “Trust me.”

Their connection thrummed, the word  _trust_  silently echoing between them. But it wasn’t a question; it was a simple fact. They trusted one another. Their actions, more so than their link, proved it. Severus agreeing to meet with Harry. Severus inviting Harry into his home. Harry letting Severus Claim him, body and soul. But it went back further, years ago to the moment Severus had offered up his memories to Harry: that had been the start of their unspoken trust. It had never been a perfect trust, but it had been a strong one.

Harry squeezed Severus’s hand back and then urged him closer. Brushing his lips lightly against Severus’s, he softly said, “I do…trust you…now and forever.”

Severus inhaled sharply and shut his eyes, stunned and overwhelmed by Harry’s words. Having lived most of his life as a double agent, the rarest of gifts, which had always eluded him, had been trust and love. Now, he had one, and with time—something he had a great amount of—he knew he would have both.

Resting his brow against Harry’s, he whispered his own promise, “Now and forever.”

Still holding hands, they exited the front door.

Outside again, Severus stood to Harry’s left watching with interest as Harry reapplied the complicated wards.

Once finished, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned around. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something… It appeared to be the silhouette of someone watching them.

Wand at the ready, Harry raced down the steps, catching a flash of pale skin before the person disappeared around the corner of the house. Lighting his wand, he gave chase, but once he rounded the corner, he found only an empty alleyway and a section of the high brick wall that surrounded the cemetery.

“What is it?” Severus asked from behind, his wand also drawn.

“I’m not sure… Thought I saw something. Probably just a ghost from the nearby cemetery… Do you sense anything out here?”

Severus sniffed the air, a frown appearing on his face. In a single leap, he jumped on top of the cemetery wall, standing tall.

Harry’s heart thudded at Severus’s show of agility and strength.

Soaring back to Harry’s side, Severus’s face expressed disgust. “The smell of ectoplasm is overwhelming so near to the cemetery,” he grumbled. “A werewolf’s nose might have better luck discerning something.”

Severus proceeded to retrace their steps to the entrance of the house then followed a scent down the street a few car lengths. “It’s faint, but I can smell the Muggle from the house, they left in a vehicle that was parked here. Unfortunately, I can’t tell much more. The scent becomes too muddled.”

“Severus, your help has been brilliant, invaluable really.” Harry took out a small notepad and pen from his briefcase. After jotting down Severus’s findings, he said, “Let’s head on over to the Ministry before the hour gets too late. But before we do,” Harry tapped Severus’s chest with his pen, “I need to know what your plan is to not be discovered.”

Severus grinned. “I’m glad to have been of service… As to my plan, I’ll show you once we’re back in the limousine.”

Harry cursed his cock as it jumped at Severus’s seductive tone.

* * *

It amazed Harry how well Severus blended in. If he didn’t know it was Severus standing next to him, Harry would assume he was just another nameless cog in the Ministry machine.

Now, Severus wore boring blue robes. His hair and eyes were a nondescript brown, and his signature aquiline nose was Grecian and easily forgettable. Metamorphmagi are rare and can only be born or, rarer still in Severus’s case, reborn as an immortal.

“The second-shift Aurors will be on duty now,” Harry explained, lurching as the lift came to an abrupt stop, “but most of the Ministry personnel will have left for the day. If you head to the left past the toilets towards the administrative cubicles and come around the other way, you’ll less likely be noticed.”

Harry stepped off the lift and felt Severus’s fingers caress his neck. He turned but found Severus had already disappeared. Harry could only hope Severus wouldn’t be discovered.

Walking down the main corridor, Harry heard the murmur of voices coming from the mess room. He peeked inside to see who was in.

Three Aurors dressed in their uniform robes stood next to a percolating coffee maker. Between sips of coffee so strong it could be mistaken for tar, they chinwagged about a recent United-Bats Quidditch match. Aurors Winifred Norwood and Llewellyn Hall were recent additions to the ranks, but Harry internally groaned at the third person: Auror Mamond Musson. Musson had been an annoyance ever since Harry had made the mistake of shagging him once while they were completing Auror training.

“Evening,” Harry greeted the bunch.

“Evening,” they chorused back.

“You’re looking proper smart in your Muggle gear tonight,” Musson teased, pouring fresh coffee into a mug. “Finally taking some time off…maybe going on a date?”

“No,” Harry answered, wishing Musson wasn’t the senior Auror on duty. “I just returned from the field with some news. Is Snodgrass in?”

“Unfortunately, he left about an hour ago,” Musson said, sauntering over with a mug in each hand.

“Damn. I’ll have to send him an owl, then.”

“Anything I can help with?” Musson enquired with clear insinuation.

Harry wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a low growl from outside the room. The next thing he knew, searing pain engulfed parts of his face, neck, and chest. Hissing in a breath and grimacing, he looked down to see scalding coffee dripping down his front.

“Oh, fuck!” Musson exclaimed, setting his surviving mug on a nearby table and stepping over shards of the broken one below. “Harry, I am so sorry. Some coffee spilt onto my hand, and I…”

Harry gritted his teeth at Musson’s overly familiar use of his name.

Musson Summoned a towel and then continued to apologize while wiping and dabbing at Harry’s face and clothes. “A-Are you alright? I can help you to your office…”

Harry shooed Musson’s invasive hands away. Even though his skin screamed in agony, he answered with an, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Musson asked, looking eager.

“Positive,” Harry stressed, casting a nonverbal  _Tergeo_. “I’ll grab some Burn-healing paste from the Equipment Supply Office on my way to the Owlery. Have a nice evening, everyone. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” all three Aurors replied weakly as Harry marched out of the room.

Harry hurried to the Equipment Supply Office and helped himself to a small jar of Burn-healing paste. Unscrewing the jar, he got a whiff of the paste’s strong, unmistakable odour of oranges, baneberries, and Doxy hair. As he walked at a brisk pace, he slathered a layer onto his burn. The pain of his burn intensified threefold. He clenched his jaw until the numbing effect of the paste kicked in and then sighed in relief.

Next, he used the stairs to go up to Level One. At the Owlery, he sent a letter to Lead Detective Snodgrass, leaving out any mention of Severus, of course.

Hastening back down to the DMLE, he reached the silent, sparsely lit corridor which led to his office. As Harry worked on catching his breath, he looked over his shoulder, making sure no one was behind him. Slowing his step, he pressed his fingers on random spots on his face, neck, and chest. Satisfied the numbness had passed and his burn was gone, he Vanished what paste remained.

When he was only a few steps away from his office door, Harry softly called out Severus’s name.

Harry’s chest tightened with worry when Severus didn’t answer. He called out again.  _Fuck_! What would he do if the Ministry had somehow gotten ahold of Severus? What if Severus was wrongly accused without a trial like Sirius? What would he do without—

Arms slowly wrapped around Harry’s chest and pulled him close.

“I loathed his hands being all over you,” Severus growled quietly into Harry’s left ear, the feel of his tall, hard body doing wicked things to Harry’s.

Harry shivered, letting his body relax into Severus’s possessive embrace. “Trust me. I did too. Musson's always been a maddeningly handsy sycophant.” He turned around within Severus’s hold, happy to be staring into familiar dark eyes. “But you shouldn’t have been out in the corridor watching, to begin with. You should have been waiting for me here where it was safer.” Chuckling, Harry shook his head. “Now, I’m warning you about being out in the corridors.”

Keeping Harry captive within the safety of his arms, Severus smirked and then stole a kiss.

Harry allowed the kiss to continue as he walked backwards towards his office door, moaning in appreciation at Severus’s skilful tongue.

Gasping, Harry broke their kiss. “As much as I wouldn’t mind continuing, you shouldn’t be out here, especially looking as you do, and I’ll need my arms if I’m to unlock the door.”

After he inhaled a deep breath of Harry’s unique scent, Severus reluctantly released his hold, allowing Harry to unlock his office door.

Inside Harry’s office, light could be seen streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows, which overlooked the Atrium. Harry flicked his wand, and the sound of metal rings sliding across a metal rod filled the room as thick red curtains swung closed. With the next few waves of his wand, Harry lit the sconces, the lamp on his desk, and the small fireplace in the corner.

The warm light transformed the space. Besides Harry’s desk, a cheerful potted fern shaded a neat pile of Auror robes and a pair of boots. A long, cosy sofa rested against the left wall, and on its far-right cushion, a pillow was laid on top of a folded quilt. In front of the sofa, Harry’s old Hogwarts trunk acted as the coffee table. Along the right wall, various books with titles ranging from  _Amazing Aerial Quidditch Stunts_  to  _Zoological Classification of Friendlier Beasts_  filled dark-stained bookshelves. A long table was positioned against the wall opposite the windows; boxes, large stacks of folders, and piles of parchment covered one half of its surface. On the other half, closest to the fireplace, was a makeshift kitchen. Even a small wizarding fridge could be found underneath the table.

“Welcome to my home,” Harry quipped with a grin, locking the door.

“It’s nice,” Severus mused, taking in the very lived-in feel of the place.

“Thanks. It was given to me after my second promotion. Snodgrass took pity on me after he found me having slept the night in my cubicle one too many times. When I’m not out in the field, I spend most of my time here.” He gestured at the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable while I gather all the case notes.”

Harry grabbed a few folders and rolls of parchment off his desk and out of his briefcase. With his arms full, he went over to a particular box on the long table. Placing all the documents in his arms on top of the box, he hauled everything over, plopping it all on his trunk.

Sitting down next to Severus, Harry loved how Severus’s scent mingled with his own, the way Severus casually placed a hand on his knee. It took all of Harry’s willpower and sense of duty to not sink into Severus’s arms and offer up his body and blood.

Handing Severus a random folder to look at, Harry explained, “This is all the information about the case the Ministry has gathered: background information on the six victims, crime scene photos, interviews, all the standard stuff.”

“What do the victims or murders have in common?” Severus asked, opening the folder and finding a picture of a happy, middle-aged Muggle man.

“They don’t have a lot in common,” Harry answered, reviewing his personal notes, “different ages, sexes, and socioeconomic backgrounds. What they do have in common is they all are Muggles and have been drained of blood. Each was found in their home on the same eight-sided star we saw, and all the murders have occurred in the Chelsea area.” He rummaged through his papers and unfolded a piece of parchment, revealing a topographical map of London. Six red dots spotted the map like drops of blood. Since the map was large and unruly, Harry cast a Levitation Charm on it, so it could be easily viewed by them both.

“As you can see,” Harry touched each red spot with his wand, “the locations of their deaths are random and don’t form any type of arcane symbol. Of course, that might be because the murderer hasn’t killed enough people yet.” Harry frowned and chewed his bottom lip in thought.

Waving his hand at the map, Harry transformed it to include major Muggle landmarks. “Since we’re dealing with a Muggle,” Harry clarified, using his wand to draw a black circle around the cluster of red marks.

“Hospitals,” Harry and Severus said, simultaneously.

Harry smiled with growing excitement. “All the murders have occurred within a mile radius of either the Royal Brompton Hospital or the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital.”

“Without magic, it would make sense that the killer has medical training,” Severus added. “Should we go investigate now or wait until the morning?”

Harry thrived on the thrill of solving cases and the satisfaction of protecting innocents. He cancelled the charm on the map and stood up, grinning. “No time like the present.”

* * *

Having transformed their clothes into navy scrubs, Harry and Severus investigated the Royal Brompton Hospital first but found nothing.

Since it was close to ten in the evening, traffic flowed at an even pace, and it didn’t take long for them to reach the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital. The chauffeur pulled into the underground car park, but instead of finding the first available spot, he continued on to the lowest level reserved for staff.

Once the limousine was parked, Severus, ever the gentleman, helped Harry out of the car. The moment Severus froze as if he were a predator that had spotted prey, Harry knew they were on the right track. He watched as Severus’s nostrils flared, his chest expanding with deep breaths.

“I smell traces of the Muggle suspect,” Severus informed Harry. Turning his head from side to side while sniffing the air, he led them deeper into the car park.

Severus brought them to an older model Range Rover SUV. “This is his car.” His face pinched in distaste.

Harry understood why. Even he could smell the stench of fresh bleach. It was so strong it burnt the back of his throat. His eyes narrowed with determination. “Let’s go find ourselves a Muggle serial killer.”

Tracking the killer by his scent, they boarded a lift that took them to the ground floor. They then walked down a wide corridor to the glass-and-metal atrium cut through with walkways high above. They got on and rode another lift, which provided access to the upper floors of the hospital. Unsure of which floor the killer had disembarked on, they had to stop at each one.

“Here,” Severus confirmed once the lift doors opened to the fourth floor.

A sign with an arrow pointing to the left listed General Surgery Ward, Women’s Health Centre, and Private Inpatient Wing; while an arrow pointing to the right listed Burns Unit, Intensive Care Unit (ICU), and Gastroenterology Ward.

Severus strode out of the lift and turned right, Harry a half-step behind.

Moving through long, straight corridors, waiting for automated doors to be scanned opened by actual staff, they made their way. Finally, Severus and Harry arrived in the small admittance area of the Burns Unit. They snuck around the corner past a two-person desk staffed by one nurse busy on the phone.

Beige privacy curtains came into view, many of them closed. The occasional squeak of a rubber-soled shoe broke the murmur of voices.

A doctor in her forties, wearing theatre gear, walked out from behind a curtained private room on the right. Her short, blonde hair caught the artificial light and created a halo on the crown of her head.

Severus looked stunned. He leaned over and whispered into Harry’s ear, “It’s her. The doctor.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. Perhaps magic  _was_  at play; maybe she was under an Imperius Curse.

Harry and Severus approached her. She wore no perfume or makeup and had exhausted, steel-grey eyes. Her ID badge identified her as Dr Mary S Drest.

Seeing Harry and Severus looking at her, she asked, “Are you floating? I don’t think we need any more bodies. We’re well staffed tonight.”

As discreetly as he could, Harry pulled out his wand, stepping forward.

Dr Drest’s pupils dilated when she noticed Harry’s wand. Bugger, she knew he was a wizard.

“Who are you?” she asked her voice hard. Glancing at a nearby nurse, she barked, “Call security.”

“We don’t need a scene,” Harry said calmly. “Please, Dr Drest, come with us quietly. We’ll get everything sorted.”

“Stay away from me,” she replied, her voice becoming shrill.

“Clean,” Severus announced.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. While Dr Drest had been focusing on him, Severus had been checking for possible curses.

Her eyes grew large with the same look a desperate animal had when it knew it was about to be caught. Snarling, she tipped over a cart of equipment, sprinting away. She barreled past a nurse, knocking him over. Using her badge, Dr Drest opened a side door to a stairwell accessible only to hospital staff.

Once Harry and Severus knew the fallen nurse was alright, Severus rushed forwards, using a burst of vampiric speed to catch the door before it could close.

Entering the stairwell, Harry disabled any cameras with a flick of his wand. He watched in awe as Severus jumped over the railing to the flight of stairs below. A scream of pain made Harry bound down the steps in two jumps. Rounding the landing, what he saw made his heart sink.

“D-Dr Drest… I-I don’t understand…” a young nurse by the name of Anna stammered, her body stiff with fear.

Dr Drest had one hand wrapped around the woman’s neck, and in her other hand, she held a syringe filled with a clear liquid which she had stabbed into Anna’s thigh. Her thumb lightly rested on the plunger.

“Don’t come any closer,” Dr Drest warned, “or she dies, like all the rest.”

Anna whimpered, her eyes pleading with Harry or Severus to do something.

“Dr Drest, you’re a put-together, successful doctor; why did you need to do what you’ve done?” Harry asked, a sincere expression on his face.

“Why?” Dr Drest hissed. “I’ve given my  _life_  to saving others; barely any time for family, barely any time for friends.” Tears pooled in Dr Drest’s eyes. “I’ve not lived  _my_  life.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “I’ve done the same... Sometimes I feel like I’m only inhabiting my body until I get a new exciting case. Then I feel alive again…that I have a purpose.”

Dr Drest’s eyes widened. “Yes, exactly.”

“But recently, I realized I’d only been living a half-life,” Harry continued gently. “I realized some things are worth risking everything for.”

“Yes,” Dr Drest nodded, tears now trickling down her cheeks, “that’s why I had to do it, you see. I want to start  _living_. I  _deserve_  to live.”

They all heard the soft thump of a door shutting below and the subsequent sound of footsteps drawing closer.

Severus took advantage of Dr Drest’s moment of distraction. Seeming to materialize out of thin air next to her, he yanked the syringe from Anna’s leg, dropped it to the floor, and kicked it away. Then he freed Anna from Dr Drest’s grasp.

Not looking back, Anna ran down the stairs, screaming at whoever had entered to get out and call the police. As soon as she was out of sight, Harry cast a Muggle-Repelling Charm so they wouldn’t be interrupted again.

“No! No! Let me go! He promised…” Dr Drest wept, struggling to escape Severus’s vice-like arms wrapped around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. “He promised,” she said with such a depth of hopelessness that, even though Harry knew she was a vile, selfish person, he was affected.

What little bit of strength and defiance Dr Drest had left abandoned her, and her body deflated in Severus’s arms.

Keeping a firm hold on her, Severus asked, “ _Who_?  _Who promised_!”

Harry gasped, Severus’s Thrall almost bringing him to his knees.

“Mr Sanguini…” Dr Drest answered dreamily. “He promised… He promised…” she kept repeating, a defeated, forlorn look on her face.

Severus’s nostrils flared at her answer.

His eyes large, Harry looked at Severus. “Is it…possible?”

Severus gave a slow nod. “Yes… No trace of him was ever found. Rectors can sense their Children, but their Children are unable to sense them. He could still be alive.”

Spinning Dr Drest around, Severus stared into her eyes. “Show me,” he drawled, holding her chin so she couldn’t look away.

This time Severus didn’t rely on his powers as a Rector; he solely relied on his gift as a Legilimens. Without mercy, he tore into her mind, searching for what he wanted. His magic stabbed at each of her memories like a needle into the heart of an insect meant for display.

By the time he was done, Dr Drest sobbed uncontrollably.

“I know what her motive was,” Severus said. He looked at Dr Drest with both pity and disgust. “She has aggressive, inoperable pancreatic cancer. It’s the same illness that Sterling succumbed to. Sanguini promised to Turn her if she did as he said.”

Severus pursed his lips before he pulled out a small vial from an inside pocket of his sports jacket. He quickly poured the contents down her throat.

“What did you give her?” Harry asked.

“A cure,” Severus replied hollowly. “Unfortunately, I succeeded too late to save Sterling. I’ve kept it in memory of Sanguini and never thought I’d have reason to use it.”

“At least, she’ll live to face justice for what she’s done.”

“At least, there’s that,” Severus agreed. “Her next meeting with Sanguini was to be tonight.”

“What time?”

“Midnight.”

* * *

Since they were both hungry and had about half an hour to spare after squaring everything away with regards to Dr Drest, Severus and Harry stopped for takeaway from a nearby Indian restaurant. With their curry, they drank glasses of chilled champagne, which they had found in the limousine’s fridge. Both spoke little; too busy wolfing down their meals.

Once he was done eating, Harry set aside his empty takeaway box and sighed with contentment.

“Kiss me.”

Harry turned to see Severus staring at his lips. Without saying a word, Harry angled his face to the side and pressed his lips to Severus’s. Severus opened his mouth, inviting Harry to explore. Harry lost himself in Severus’s heat, on the sharp edges of his fangs, and in the low sounds of his pleasure. All too soon, the bells of a nearby church rang the hour.

“Promise you won’t do anything too reckless,” Severus whispered.

“Only if you promise too.”

When neither spoke, they smiled, knowing each would do everything in their power to protect the other, if need be.

Leaving the safety of the limousine behind, they left for Dr Drest and Sanguini’s meeting place. Severus glided ahead, not bothering to hide his vampiric nature, whilst Harry followed hidden under a myriad of concealment charms.

Passing through a black cast-iron gate, they entered Providentia Square, a green space not far from Chelsea and Westminster Hospital.

Walking past empty benches and old trees, Harry could see a tall figure in a heavy black cloak, standing under a lamppost. The man turned, revealing his identity.

Sanguini’s bloodless face seemed to glow under the light, making him look like a wraith. When he saw Severus, a flash of surprise crossed Sanguini’s face before his face lost all expression, eerily so.

Severus slowed, his eyes narrowing.

From behind, a burst of white from a Full Body-Bind Curse flew towards Severus but, instead of hitting him, it slammed into Harry’s invisible body.

Baring his fangs, Severus spun around and returned fire.

But whoever had attacked was clever. With their next shot, a Slicing Curse flew toward the area Harry had fallen.

The smell of Harry’s blood filled the air, and Severus roared with fury. With the amount of blood gushing from Harry’s wound, Severus knew he didn’t have much time. He dropped to his knees and erected a shield. As he worked frantically on Harry, spells continued to pummel their small dome of protection, weakening it with every strike.

Once Severus had cancelled all of Harry’s concealment charms and the Full Body-Bind Curse, he quickly discovered the spell had hit Harry’s carotid artery. Ripping Harry’s shirt out of the way, Severus had just enough time to cast the strongest healing charm he knew before a Stunner shattered his shield and struck his back.

Fighting to stay awake, Harry gritted his teeth in anger when Severus fell unconscious across his chest. But when he saw who their attacker was, he wanted to kill.

“What a surprise to see  _you_  here, Harry,” Auror Mamond Musson said, a smirk on his face. “And look, you brought a friend.” He proceeded to kick Severus’s side before shoving him off of Harry.

“I brought my own friend.” He gestured at Sanguini standing next to him. “Do you like him?”

Studying Sanguini’s unnaturally still form, Harry realized what he really was: a Poppet, nothing more than an empty, life-like marionette. Now it was expressionless and unmoving because Musson wasn’t pulling its magical strings. Conjuration of the highest level needed to be used to fashion such a complex, realistic creation. Harry didn’t feel too far removed from being one himself, considering he could no longer feel his arms or legs.

“It took the Ministry an entire month to craft him after I agreed to their deal,” Musson continued on, not waiting for Harry to answer. “And how could I refuse?

“You would either get thrown out of the DMLE because of your Dark obsession or you would possibly coax the vampire leader into Ministry custody. Regardless of the outcome,  _I_  would get promoted. I mean really, Harry; you didn’t make it very hard. You should have known better than to keep a diary written by a vampire’s bumboy, in your office.

“Not to mention, in addition to the benefit of being promoted to Lead Detective, I’ll get to help save wizardkind from being overrun by parasites like  _him_.”

“ _Fuck_ … _you_ ,” Harry managed to hiss.

Musson’s lips curled with revulsion and cruelty.

“I can’t believe the higher-ups were right about your disgusting desires. I couldn’t until I  _accidentally_  spilt coffee on you and checked your neck earlier today, glimpsing the fresh marks for myself. Harry Potter, victim to a corpse’s bite, forever a risk due to his attacker’s Thrall.

“But I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with you only being thrown out… You’re ruined now,  _tainted_.” He sneered. “Best to put you out of your misery.” He pointed his wand at Harry. “Goodbye, Harry. Such a shame really, you were a decent shag. Avad—”

Harry saw a flash of pale skin before he heard the snap of bone. Musson screamed in agony, but then he made a guttural moan of pleasure when Lady Black began feasting at his neck.

At first, Musson rutted against her like an animal in heat, but soon, he grew so lifeless Lady Black’s strength was the only thing keeping him upright. Finally, she released her hold, and he crumbled to the ground.

Harry could see Musson’s chest slowly rising and falling. For a split second, Harry wished that wasn’t the case. The good news was that Severus’s decrees of taking his potion and not killing were still in effect, so he didn’t have to worry about being Lady Black’s next meal.

Standing over him, Lady Black curtsied and politely said, “Good evening, Master Potter.”

Harry waited for her to help, but all she did was study the Poppet with Sanguini’s likeness.

“Tut-tut,” she muttered. “As my Rector said earlier this morning, the Ministry has been very naughty.” She kicked Musson with her foot rousing him. “ _Order the imposter to basement level two of my Rector’s Domus_.”

Slurring his words, Musson did as she had ordered, passing out again soon after.

“Help…” Harry pleaded weakly to her.

Lady Black looked down at him blankly.

“Master Potter, as my Rector commanded, I must protect you from direct harm, but I am under no obligation to do anything more. If my Rector is too weak to save himself or his Cor, he is unworthy of his title.”

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The next second, he felt a whoosh of air and found Quin kneeling beside him.

Quin picked up Severus’s wrist, sliced it with his thumbnail, and positioned it over Harry’s mouth.

“Master Potter, drink.”

Harry’s eyes closed in bliss when Severus’s blood flooded his mouth, but he stopped drinking as soon as he had enough strength to wield his wand.

“ _Rennervate_ ,” Harry rasped.

Immediately, Severus jumped to his feet, searching for danger. His posture relaxed once he recognized Quin and found Harry safe.

“Quin,” Severus said with relief. “You heard my call in time.”

“Rector, your power is undeniable,” Quin replied while grinning at Lady Black. “Good evening, Lady Black. Tonight, you’re lovelier than the sweetest of roses and fiercer than the most vicious of beasts.”

Not greeting him in return, Lady Black crossed her arms and sniffed.

Quin smiled. “You know you want me.” He laughed when Lady Black’s cheeks flushed easily due to her recent gluttony.

“Why is she here?” Harry wondered.

Severus sat down next to Harry. “I took your advice,” he answered. “I needed to keep a better eye on her. And what better way to achieve that than ordering her to stay close and guard you against attack.”

“She was the person I saw near the cemetery.”

“Yes, I’m guessing so,” Severus confirmed, helping Harry to sit up. “You need to drink more,” he encouraged Harry, offering his neck.

Biting into Severus’s firm flesh, Harry momentarily forgot his every worry; all he knew was Severus’s taste and heat and comfort. Hearing Severus’s restrained moan, Harry licked Severus’s neck clean and then sighed, his troubled thoughts returning far too quickly.

“What will we do about those in the Ministry who are plotting against us?” Harry asked.

Severus smiled at Harry’s use of the words  _we_  and  _us_.

“Nothing…for now,” Severus drawled. “Soon, immortals will be indistinguishable from ordinary wizards and Muggles; they will live and work beside us unknowingly. Over time, we will see to it that our names are erased from the Being Registry. And those who oppose us will eventually be long gone, and  _we_ …we’ll have forever…”

Harry tilted back his head and let Snape graze his fangs across his neck before placing a delicate kiss; the gesture filled with promise.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome. ♥
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, browse my other [works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofSD/pseuds/ladyofsilverdawn/works). 
> 
> Cross-posted on [Livejournal](https://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3778165.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1712971.html), and [Dreamwidth](https://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/1024365.html).


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